


Clarie: Receive Punishment

by High_Spanxicutioner



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, F/F, Fantrolls, Flogging, It's A Bad Time(tm), Slaves, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 15:45:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18574576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/High_Spanxicutioner/pseuds/High_Spanxicutioner
Summary: Noted unruly bully, Clarie Arraya, gets a hard flogging from sadistic Sigyrn Asfolo.





	Clarie: Receive Punishment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CarmineKnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarmineKnight/gifts), [feraciousAbandon (Pitchblende_Viridia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pitchblende_Viridia/gifts).



> This fic was written for CarmineSins, featuring their fantrolls!

The air is conveniently still aboard the deck of the Orphaner Dualscar's prized vessel, the oceanic winds calmer than they'd been for a good long while. It's a serene atmosphere, to say the least, one that's broken only by the cursing bronzeblood being tied by her wrists to the mast of the ship.  
This in itself wouldn't be much of a cause for interest, disciplinary matters undertaken easily once a week, but the specific slave being shown the error of her ways has more crew members and fellow slaves stopping to watch- Clarie Arraya is more than infamous among the lowest members of the ship's hierarchy, a renowned bully with more than her fair share of enemies among the less physically imposing slaves. Whatever she's being punished for, they collectively think, it certainly isn't going to be enough of a beating for the way she's been treating everyone.  


The gathering crowd doesn't seem to be making things any easier for Clarie, either- on top of the foul curses spat at her disciplinarian, she's glaring daggers at anyone who lets their gaze linger too long on her bare chest, only stopping her verbal tirade long enough to take a break once she's had her hands securely cuffed above her head, leaving her unable to wriggle away from the ensuing punishment.  


"Ay, what the fuck are you lookin' at, asshole? Fuck off!" She snarls, catching the eye of a rustblood with a particularly smug smirk on their face; though their surface-level interaction doesn't have a chance to progress any further than this, with the slave's higher-ranking companion quickly stepping up to grab a firm handful of her hair, yanking her head back to hiss in her ear.  


"Who are you snarling at, slave? You're not in charge here, girl, it's high time you fucking learned it."

Between the clear threatening presence and the burning pain in her scalp, Clarie opts to just fall silent instead of make things worse for herself; a choice that's tested severely as her hair is yanked on harshly once more, the shorter troll behind her speaking up again.

"I asked you a question, girl. Don't bother answering- I'll just take an apology instead."

"Hey, fuck you, Asfolo!"

Despite the assembled crowd's lack of sympathy for the victim of this imminent public lashing, there's still a ripple of murmurs that passes through them when Sigyrn is chewed out like that- she's the only member of the crew with a reputation arguably higher than Clarie's own, and the thin little smile she gives as she's insulted serves to instil more dread and worry than any show of anger would.  
The tense silence after Clarie's outburst stretches on as Sigyrn observes her bound prey, grip tight on her hair, but ultimately Clarie is given a brief reprieve as the disciplinarian steps back and grabs her trusty whip from the nearby box.  


Without a further word, at least for now, Sigyrn unravels the whip and gives it an experimental crack in the air, revelling in the way that Clarie tenses and the assembled crowd flinches. This may not be a nightly occurrence aboard this ship, but it happens more than often enough for a majority of the trolls present to know exactly what it feels like; and for almost every single troll to be intimately familiar with the sights and sounds of someone getting a little disciplinary action from the ship's most sadistic member of middle management. 

A silence falls over the deck as Sigyrn paces back and forth, the shorter troll sizing up her target- Clarie's shirt had long since been stripped off her, the work pants she'd been provided riding low on her hips and leaving her entire back exposed and vulnerable. Her hair was pulled up and into a ponytail before she was dragged out to the mast, ensuring that all Sigyrn needs to do is start lashing.  
Exactly how she likes it.  
Eventually, though, she does have to act, finally taking up position behind and slightly to the left of her captive before the first lash is delivered- Sigyrn leans into it with as much force as she can muster, ensuring that the sound of the leather tip slicing into Clarie's back rings out loud as a gunshot in the still sea air, prompting the audience to flinch sympathetically... though getting nothing more than a grunt from Clarie, the bronzeblood gripping her bonds tight and pressing her forehead against the mast to focus her efforts towards keeping silent.  


No sense in giving that stuck-up bitch the satisrfaction of a proper reaction, after all.

  
"That all you got, asshole?"  


Sigyrn laughs, low and sinister, reacting to the taunt by simply leading into another gunshot-loud crack of the whip against Clarie's back, savouring the way the woman's body tenses and writhes as a vivid bronze mark blossoms on the grey skin. In her not-so-humble opinion, there's simply nothing better than the visceral, instinctual reactions people give under a harsh flogging...  
As she speaks up, she swings the whip again, practised ease blatantly evidence in every inch of her posture and body language.  


"Filthy thief. Did you think the rules didn't apply to you, that you wouldn't be disciplined?"

If Clarie had been intending on responding, her witty retort was forcibly changed to a loud squeal as the whip cracks across her back a second time, slicing a vivid welt just below the first. She grits her teeth, growls under her breath, and does her best to ignore the burning, itching pain in order to shoot back somethign equally as aggressive and confrontational.  
...Only to find herself howling out as she's lashed a third time, her whole body jerking and her mouth immediately shutting out of fear of debasing herself too much with her vocal complaints. Fine. Fine! If she can't speak, then she'll just keep herself silent and not give Sigyrn any satisfaction at all.  
It's a resolve that holds for a surprisingly long time; Clarie's teeth grit, her jaw sets, and she focuses all of her energy onto toughing it out through her beating- a fact that Sigyrn absolutely catches on to, and that earns Clarie a harsher whipping than she perhaps would have earned otherwise. Sigyrn falls silent as she settles into a clockwork pace, a massive grin on her face as she methodically lashes more and more angry welts onto the slave girl's bared back, drinking in every muffled little grunt and every little tense and writhe whenever the pain sharply racked up...  


It isn't until a particularly harsh lash cracks across her back and she feels the sickening lurch of hot blood oozing from a split welt that Clarie finally chokes out a scream- not that it stops Sigyrn, the other troll taking this as an excuse to cackle cruelly and lay into her even harder than before.  
Once the metaphorical dam had broken, Clarie starts to find it much, much harder to maintain her prideful, arrogant demeanour- she struggles against her bonds, screeching each time the whip connects with her already welted skin and cuts harsher lines into her skin, tears freely flowing down her face as even her former victims in the crowd turn away in discomfort and pity.  


From Clarie's perspective, the whipping proper lasts for an eternity, each dreadful second seeming to take an hour as the writhes and sobs in place, her weight supported less by her shaking legs and more by the cold iron shackles keeping her bolted to the ship's mast she's pressed up against.  
Eventually, though, even Sigyrn runs out of steam, the disciplinarian stepping back and admiring the criss-cross of bleeding welts she'd left behind on Clarie's back. She sighs happily, setting the whip aside and striding over, running her fingers over the welts- grinning ever wider as the action makes Clarie shudder and whimper.  


"I think I'll leave you here for a few hours. As a reminder to everyone else, that nobody escapes without punishment."

Digging her nails into Clarie's skin to drag one last choking cry out of the girl, Sigyrn nods, striding away to leave the beaten slave shivering, tensing every time the breeze washes sea-salt over the fiery marks left behind.


End file.
